Stay A Little Longer
by Ghost Butterfly
Summary: A little over a year has passed since bio-terrorism caused hell on earth around the world but repercussions can still be felt throughout survivors' lives. 'He died a hero', they all say.. Hollow words to those who feel his absence...


_Author's note:  
This story takes place after RE6.  
Yes, it is AU_.

* * *

 **Chapter I**

 _Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick._  
The steady sound of the clock filled the room. The pendulum, for which the style of clock was known for, glinted from moonbeams that fell through the sheers billowing gently in the breeze from the open french doors.  
A serene moment.  
A torturous moment.

Left alone in the dark like this was never peaceful. Crystal hues stared blankly at the wall beside the bed… her side of the bed.  
 _Hers._  
No… That wasn't quite right, was it? The entire thing belonged to her.. It had for quite some time now. The thought brought a relentless feeling of her chest being crushed. Tears started to gather on long pale lashes and she pushed herself up. Forcing her form to the edge of the bed until she stood and grabbed the light cotton robe from the end of the mattress. She shrugged it on and absently tied it, soft footfalls accompanying the dancing shadows in the hall as she made her way to the living room.

Her steps began to drag until she stopped, rooted to the ground in the center of the room, eyes locked on the grandfather clock and its swinging bar.  
Back and forth. Back and forth. Never ceasing. Eternal in its time-keeping. Her vision blurred, the memory all consuming and disorienting in its intensity.

 _"Come on, Jill..." he grinned at her in that certain way he had; boyish charm coming through as his shoulders straightened waiting to hear he was correct. It was a rare sight indeed and one she and few others were privy to. He slapped the side of dark wood, polished to a gleam, and gave it an appraising look, "You have to admit… It looks great."  
She'd feigned a disgusted look- gaining an arched brow from him- but could not manage to maintain it when he'd walked over to put his arm around her waist.  
He had pulled her close and caressed her back as she sighed heavily, shaking her head.  
"Yes, all right? Yes!" her tone had that affectionate exasperation in it that only came with being a couple for so long, "You were right. It's perfect."  
There it was again. That grin. She noticed a sparkle in his eye as he leaned down, breathing softly on her skin, "You can't fool me," he mumbled, knowing full well that the tone of her voice was just for show. His lips captured hers and she melted, the way she always did, fingers winding their way into his short dark hair and he held her tighter before sweeping her up as they kissed, carrying her back to the bedroom in the house they were making a home._

Clouded vision suddenly cleared, a blank stare reflected back at her in the glass of the clock. The memory from years ago hurt in a way that was indescribable yet she wanted it back all the same. It had swept through her then flitted away leaving her feeling a scramble of emotions all at once. Her eyes locked with the reflection and she reached to the coffee table grabbing a mug and throwing it with all her strength. A mixture of despair and anger ripped at her throat in the form of a cry, drowning out the shattering of glass as shards fell to the hardwood floor.

Seconds ticked by. Then minutes. And the image in the glass still stared back, the moment having only been an urge that played through her mind. She still wanted to grab the mug she knew was just within reach… yet she stayed her hand knowing all too well that if the clock were damaged she would feel far worse.

Eventually, painfully, she ripped her gaze from the decorum and moved to the couch. Her form sank into the deep cushion, the cotton of her robe giving little comfort, and she curled her knees beneath her while staring at the floor. She sighed, as though resigned to feeling numb, before her hands covered her eyes and she sobbed.  
Gut-wrenching sobs shook her form and soaked her cheeks, an intense and opposite emotion to what she had felt only mere seconds ago.  
His side of the bed, their clock, her table, his this, her that... their house.  
It was overwhelming.  
The sorrow that made her heart heavy and pulled each string in a pained minuet swept her beyond memories and thoughts until she was too exhausted to shed another drop, and drifted into a dreamless slumber where she sat, feeling like a piece of herself was broken beyond repair.


End file.
